


Little Wolf

by yashkonu



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: F/F, Pet Play Overtones???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 12:02:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6803083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yashkonu/pseuds/yashkonu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Linkle searches for Ilia, and finds someone distinctly different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Wolf

_Ilia Ilia Ilia_

The name tumbled through your mind, the only thing tangible in the havoc of your probably-at-least-a-little-concussed thoughts. Harsh canyon wind caught your hood as harried steps carried you across the bridge, tearing it from your head and whipping your braids across your face.

_Ilia Ilia Ilia_

She _had_ to be okay. The arrow had to have missed her heart, missed her lungs, missed everything important because -- because you _had_ to have time to get to her.

The alternative didn’t bear thinking about.

A barrier of light blocked your way, warped light and runes of shadow obscuring your way forward, your path to her. You scoured the barrier, searching for some seam, some gap, some _anything_ to let--

There was no time to register _what_ had suddenly locked itself like an iron shackle around your throat, only the halting of your breath, the sudden jolt forward, and a sensation like sinking into cold, dark oil, slick darkness sliding over and into your body.

* * *

 

You came to in its claws, staring down a flat, impassive mask, etched with runes and patterns you couldn’t begin to recognize. There was something almost like curiosity in the way it regarded you, the mask tilting and turning to watch you from different angles as your hands scrabbled at the unmoving claws, desperately pulling at them to salvage every scrap of breath you could. The familiar weight of your crossbows still tugged at your legs, but they would be of little use when every bit of your fading strength was needed to keep a trickle of air flowing into your lungs.

And then…

And then there was a flash of light, golden and pure, and the… _thing_ recoiled with an unearthly noise, letting you fall heavily to the dirt as it shielded itself. Gasping and coughing, dizzy with the sudden rush, you dragged your aching body to all fours, too weak still to think of anything but drawing precious air into your lungs.

Something unknowable welled up in you, a pressure, a fire, drawing every fiber to taut rigidity. You were bursting at the seams, tearing apart from within, and you screamed yourself hoarse when the feeling burst _through_ you.

You heard it, as though from a great distance, when your scream became something else entirely.

Then you were empty, drained of everything. Your vision swam and your arms would no longer support you. The darkness came again, and you were no more.

_Ilia_

* * *

 

Waking was a surprise in itself. In all honesty, you hadn’t expected to. Moving on instinct, you rose to your feet, only pausing to question their number when you felt the cold weight of a shackle on one.

One. One of four.

Tilting your head to look brought the foreign feeling of shifting fur all over your body. A wolf. Okay.

No, no, not okay, not at all, not in the least. You threw yourself at the walls in a moment of uncomprehending panic, stopped short time and again by the harsh grip of the shackle. The pain mounted as you tried again, and again, and again, but you paid it no heed, consumed by the need to escape the chain, the cell, yourself.

And then…

And then you felt eyes on you, watching you like a rat in a cage. The urge of some instinct burned into your newly altered blood pulled your ears back, your tail low, as you turned to search the half-light outside the cell. Your gaze met narrowed eyes of amber, copper, and gold. Hues of sunset, of dawn, of every between-time and boundary, regarding you expectantly. But expecting what? Were you entertainment, a caged curiosity to be gawked at? The thought filled you with a simmering anger and your lips pulled back, a rough growl bubbling up from your chest.

The figure -- you weren’t sure what else to call it -- floated forward, slid through the bars of your cell like they were made of so much fog, and stared down at you, unblinking. Pale lips split into a glinting grin as predatory as it was amused.

“Found you.”

She -- you supposed, though if you were honest it was little more than a guess -- broke into a chiming laugh, and your growl redoubled in irritation.

“Are you sure you want to growl at _me,_ little wolf?”

\-- And suddenly the shadows around her grew longer, deeper, and the weight of a power you couldn’t begin to fathom pressed upon you, radiating from that deceptively small frame. You willed yourself silent and made an attempt to relax your posture, such as it was.

 _“Good girl.”_ A shiver ran through you at the words, but somehow you found yourself able to stand a bit straighter, keep your ears forward with a bit less effort.

“Much better.” That laugh again, melodious and echoing all through the cell, surrounding you. “You _humans_ are obedient to a fault, aren’t you?” Your face grew warm -- you wondered if wolves could blush. The creature toying with you took a step forward and reached to cup your chin, turning your head this way and that, meeting first one eye, then the other over the obstacle of your newfound muzzle. “Ah, but you don’t look like a human at all, do you? You, my dear, are a _beast_ now. Isn’t that right?” It wasn’t a question, not really, and the laughter that followed proved it.

You should have growled. You should have snapped, should have fought the weight of the shackle to claw at her, should have done _something_ \-- but you didn’t. The same thoughts seemed to flash through her as well, and something else crept into her grin, something curious and hungry to know more. “You really are a _good girl,_ aren’t you?”

She stepped back, let her hands fall away from your face to form a circle at her chest. Energy -- some kind of magic, though not like any you had ever heard of -- coalesced between her hands, dark, swarming, and angry. With a wave of her hands it flashed forward, searing through the air to slice cleanly through the chain binding you and causing you to leap back with a startled yelp. Your fur prickled with the residual power, and you thanked her in your mind for not aiming for the shackle itself.

A second flash of power reduced the lock on your cell to a dripping mess of molten iron, and the door swung open on its rusting hinges. You took a tentative step forward, only to nearly fall flat when a weight landed squarely in the small of your back, driving the wind from you.

She spoke around a laugh when you turned your head to eye her, anger simmering once again. “I like you. I’m going to help you, on one condition.” Your ear flicked in irritation, and she snared it in one surprisingly strong hand, leaning low to whisper close, her body pressed flush against yours. “You’ll have to do _exactly_ as I say. Deal?”

She must have felt the shiver that gripped you, because she released your ear with another bright giggle. “I’ll take that as a yes. Oh, and by the way, you can call me Midna.”

 _Midna_.

You put one paw forward, and stepped into the darkness.

 


End file.
